Mandy Nolan

The Bruce Lehrmann and Brittany Higgins case was never about establishing whether or not Lehrmann raped Higgins. It was about Brittany. She was established as not ‘the perfect victim’ so we overlooked the blazingly obvious fact that Bruce Lehrmann was ‘the perfect perpetrator’. An entitled, compulsive wrecking ball of cocaine, $400 steaks, free rent and very very expensive massages.

I feel trapped. There isn’t a single time I attend where I don’t check my proximity to the exits, or imagine what I’d do if there was a fire, or worse, a shooter. The sense of being enclosed is unnatural, I can’t tell what time of day it is, I lose my sense of direction. It’s designed to be disorienting. It feels otherworldly. And never in a good way. They are designed to make you stay longer. They are by design, disorienting.

How do you keep a nude beach safe from sex pests, accepting nudity is not the cause, but that a remote location can encourage predatory opportunism? For me, Tyagarah nude beach is a wicked problem. And I don’t mean morally. I mean culturally.

When we work out how to manage power we can work out how we manage power. It’s something I’ve contemplated a lot. In a world dependent on us being plugged in, what we plug into matters.

There is something profound about being seen. Being accepted and loved for exactly who you are. It’s life changing. It’s simple. It’s transformative. But some people don’t get to experience this. Nearly half of transgender Australians have attempted suicide.That data tells the very real impact of discrimination, stigma and lack of access to gender-affirming surgery. I write this as a woman who was born a woman, who identifies as a woman. I’ll admit, that even in that gender role, that fits within the societal binary, I’ve had my own challenges.

Everyone’s banging on about the Kate Middleton Mother’s Day family photo scandal. Where’s Kate? Well it’s obvious. The royal family are lizards and they ate her. Shapeshifting reptilian overlords don’t always have a lot of self-control, nor are they very good at Photoshop. Lizards have to eat you know.

One in 12 people over 65 are living with dementia. Dementia is not a specific disease, but is a general term for the impaired ability to remember, think, or make decisions that interfere with doing everyday activities. It’s actually no longer called dementia, but Major Neurocognitive Disorder (MND).

'If war can be started by lies, then maybe peace can be started by truth.' ~ Julian Assange. It’s a simple profound statement said by someone who knows that as a journalist the truth doesn’t set you free. It gets you locked up in solitary confinement in Belmarsh Prison. The truth can cost your life. Assange knows that too well.

Birth is magical. It is powerful and wild and beautiful and scary and miraculous. Until it’s not. When things go to shit, it happens fast and when your baby dies, your life is changed forever, but not in the way you were expecting.

I love the smell of mould in the morning. Actually I don’t. It drives me nuts. Some days I’m obsessed that it’s all I can smell. It’s the smell of living in the Northern Rivers. The humidity and rain of our summer has created the perfect conditions for mould. Mould on shoes. Mould in my bread bin. Mould in the dark of my cupboards. Mould in the cracks in my bathroom. Mould behind the sink. Mould in me

I don’t mind having my ideas shredded. But criticism rarely stays there. It becomes personal. I usually don’t engage. I just let people fight it out with themselves. But I came across this one comment, on a thoughtful post I’d written, that enraged me. The writer accused me of making ‘motherhood statements’. That statement was like acid. I couldn’t let it go.

The February flood sent 2.7 metres of water through Corndale Hall. This water of biblical proportions reached to the roof. It wrenched the modest little building from its footings and set it free. It collided with a power pole and was broken into pieces. Such a violent and unexpected death for such a magical place.

66 millionaires earning almost a billion dollars put together paid no tax last year ... We celebrate people like this. But their profits come at a cost. It’s called poverty.

When I was a kid, every birthday I’d wait by the letterbox for a card from my nan. It wasn’t just the careful writing on the floral card wishing me the best, it was the $10 stashed inside. There’s probably not a person over 30 who hasn’t received birthday cash.

The images from my childhood Christmases play like a super-8 film. They are grainy and disjointed. A sad child with a crooked fringe is in the corner of the frame.

The internet is a very strange place. It does things to you when you’re sleeping. Today I was looking for an old article I wrote, so I googled myself. It was something I’d written on ‘feet’ as a soapbox in 2018. It came up as one of the first searches. But so did something else. I came across a super weird subject header in the google list. ‘Rate Mandy Nolan’s Feet’. What the?

The other day I watched someone put their groceries back. They were at the checkout anxiously watching the tally. I know that feeling. It’s something I’ve done many times in the past. Especially when I was a single mother. It’s humiliating. Having to declare your financial strain by returning items until the number on the screen matches the numbers in your account. In public. Under pressure. Usually with screaming kids hanging off your trolley. 

Why is peace so hard? As the assault on Gaza resumes I am reminded of the quote by Albert Einstein: ‘Peace cannot be kept by force, it can only be achieved by understanding’.

What scares you more? The impact of warming by 1.5 degrees that results in drought, famine, heat stress, species die-off, loss of entire ecosystems and habitable land and 100 million people being thrown into poverty? Or a hundred or so activists in a kayak?

When I was six years old my father was killed in a car accident. By then I had witnessed countless incidents of domestic violence. I had seen my father physically and verbally abusing my mother. I had been locked in a room for safety, only to have the door smashed in with a chair. I’ve seen my mother pushed. I’ve seen her punched. I’ve heard her crying and begging. I’ve felt the fear. I’ve heard people whispering about me. I’ve felt the shame. 

I am scared of heights Which is ironic because I’m six foot tall. And I wear heels.  And I’m a Capricorn. It appears my destiny is to inhabit high places. It’s a weird fear. I don’t remember ever not being terrified. As a kid I don’t recall anything in particular that set it off. Except maybe Mr Fredericks, the old man across the road, dangling me by my feet from his verandah for fun.